


Posturing and Pretenses

by LadyKrystine



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKrystine/pseuds/LadyKrystine
Summary: Ignis is good at his job. Damn good. But the time spent in his tiny office where his mind is free to wander is slowly starting to take its toll. Will he be able to find a distraction? Or will his pent-up frustration lead to one fussy cat of a man?*Set pre-game, post-brotherhood. Gladio is 22, Ignis is 21.*
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Overworked

**Author's Note:**

> A gift-fic for my bestest big sister, favorite roleplay partner, and one of the most amazing people I know.
> 
> Walk Tall, my friend.

Like so many early mornings and early nights, Ignis Scientia stood with both hands flat on his desk as he poured over page after excruciating page of complex legislature or official correspondence. If anyone were to ask, he loved his job and wouldn’t trade it for anything. Now, if he was asked and was honest about it, he would lament that he didn’t always appreciate spending more time secluded between these four walls than he did doing just about anything else.

Yet it was the path set before him from a young age. As long as he could remember, he had been in the care of his late uncle and destined to be the young prince’s royal advisor and closest confidante. Just as most of his lineage before him, and, if the fates had their way, all of his lineage after him.

There was some quiet, internal joy about knowing he would, in all likelihood, never sire an heir to the Scientia name. It left a question of what would happen for all future kings, but he supposed there were failsafes already in place for such a thing. Surely there were similar precautions if the Amicitia line were to fail to continue. Then again, knowing his dear friend Gladio, there was already a chance however slim that there was an unknown baby Amicita running around. Okay, no. There wasn’t. Gladio may be something of a playboy, but Ignis was sure that his friend would always take precautions.

Ignis straightened himself to stand at his full height, one hand adjusting his glasses as he shook his head to dismiss the thoughts. In all of Eos, there was no reason why he should be thinking about Gladio and his likelihood to have children. He shouldn’t even be thinking about the fact that, gasp, Gladio has relations with women. It was none of his business. His business was on the desk in front of him in the form of a mile-high stack of documents he should have already finished.

Lucky for him, Noctis would take even longer reading through the summaries that Ignis would present him. All of this work just to summarize the salient points and condense it into a manner that the prince would be able to tolerate. How Noctis survived school, Ignis would never know.

Somewhere in the midst of his slow spiral into madness, a sound drew him back to the present. A knock, almost too soft to hear.

“Come in,” Ignis called as he straightened his posture and his attire. He decided it best to sit in his plush chair just in case his visitor intended on having a lengthy discussion.

Instead of some other royal official seeking a particular report, the person who entered Ignis’s sanctum was a much friendlier face. Gladio’s appearance in his space could only mean one thing: it was nearing midnight.

“Working hard again?” Gladio asked as he claimed his favorite spot on the couch between two towering bookcases.

“Indeed.” Ignis visibly relaxed. If it was just Gladio, then there was no need for the posturing and mind games that came with discussing things in an official sense. Then again, having a better idea of the time, he wasn’t sure why he thought anyone would be paying a visit this late.

“You know it’s crazy late, right? You ever planning on sleeping?” Gladio reclined back on the couch, hands behind his head. It was just like him to make himself home on any soft surface he found.

“I sleep when my work is done, Gladio. My work is not done. Therefore, I must finish it before I retire for the night.” Ignis leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk then his chin on his folded hands. Fingers laced together through the soft leather of his gloves, it made him look and feel like a principal or dean of students getting ready to lecture a troublesome student. Astrals be damned, Gladio was absolutely a troublesome student.

Then Ignis found his mind wandering, coming close to fantasizing. It was a curse and one he bore with as much grace as he could manage. Unfortunately, he was becoming more and more convinced that Gladio was the source of this curse. So, naturally, this meant he would never be rid of it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be rid of it. While the taller man was the one more likely to read in his free time, no complaints could be made about the overactive imagination of one Ignis “Secret Dirty-Thought Haver” Scientia.

More secrets he’d take to his grave. Gladio, who would notoriously flirt with just about anyone he found attractive, could have these thoughts. Prompto, the crown prince’s excitable best friend, too, might be a better candidate. Now that was a lovesick puppy if Ignis had ever met one; Prompto often took Noctis along when he went out on the town because if left unattended, someone might end up adopting him for the night.

“Iggy,” Gladio’s voice met his ears and drew him out of his daze. It must have been apparent that he had spaced out. All he could do was glance up and over to his friend, some silent reassurance that he was paying attention. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Hm?” Ignis blinked. No, he hadn’t heard anything, but he knew he should have.

“I was saying that maybe I need to start picking you up and carrying you to bed every night. Might be the only way you’ll start taking care of yourself.” Gladio laughed at his own joke. It was that delightful laugh that sent sparks to his eyes, all jovial and good-natured.

There it was. A hint of heat slowly rose to his cheeks as he scowled at his friend. Were it not for his hands near his chin, perhaps Gladio might have seen the growing flush. Ignis cursed himself as he fought away the delightful mental image. He needed to have a stern talk with a different troublesome student at this rate: himself.

“Geez, Iggy, it’s a joke!” Gladio said, sitting up and leaning forward. “You’re like a damn cat. If I try to pick you up, I’m gonna get claws in my back. Or, well, daggers. You know.”

Ignis sat up straighter, closing his eyes and giving his friend the faintest of smiles. “Oh, I know. It is just a humorous mental image of you trying to carry me. I daresay I don’t believe you could manage.”

And there it was. The most daring thing Ignis had said. A not-so-cleverly veiled challenge. He knew Gladio. This wouldn’t slide.

Before Ignis could prepare another comeback, Gladio was up and making his way across the room. He stopped on the other side of the desk, hands flat to support his bulk. He leaned forward, a mischievous smirk already toying at those perfect lips…

Damnit, Scientia. Ignis scolded himself. If he knew better, he’d surrender in this fight. Nearing midnight and having spent the last 14 hours in this room, Ignis didn’t think he actually knew better.

So once again, he used his hands to support his chin as he leaned into the challenge. His eyes showed all signs of careful calculation and meticulous planning. He was playing a game of chess, seeing what moves he could make before Gladio either called his bluff or gave up. So rarely did he lose these games played out only in his mind. He couldn’t lose.

“Is that a challenge, Specs?” Gladio asked. They both knew the answer.

But damn. Gladio was so close. If Ignis were a bolder man, perhaps he could catch his friend off guard and win this game after all. By all accounts, he was moments away from being scooped up and carried to bed. While he wouldn’t be entirely opposed to that, if he were honest with himself, this wasn’t how he wanted it to happen.

Gladio must have sensed the faltering in his confidence. The smirk widened to a grin. In a matter of moments, Gladio closed that distance. He stole Ignis’s lips in the quickest kiss, so light and chaste Ignis wasn’t sure it actually happened. But it was enough. His green eyes widened as he pulled away. He stood up with a start, nearly tipping over his chair.

“What was that about?” he asked. He tried to sound accusatory, like it was an offense to his sensibilities. No such luck. He was confused.

“What, you want another?” Gladio teased. He, too, was standing up. Hands on his hips, he looked triumphant.

Damn that Ignis wanted to wipe that smug look off his best friend’s face.

Damn that he wanted to do it by grabbing the front of his shirt and showing Gladio how to properly kiss him.

And yet…

Damn that Ignis knew the only purpose of the kiss was to throw him off. Gladio had done it before; three times, if his memory served him. Four, now. Each time for the same reason.

Each time sent Ignis into a fit about how infuriating this man was. How there was no way Gladio knew what his teasing and freely given affection did to him. No reason for him to know. He would never say anything about it, out of fear that it would never happen again.

Instead of saying anything or dwelling much longer, Ignis met his friend’s amber eyes. Oh, how he could get lost in them if he allowed himself such a simple pleasure. Still, he had to say something. Gladio wouldn’t leave him alone until he said something. Anything.

“If this is your attempt to frustrate me enough to storm out of the room in a dramatic huff, you need to try harder, my friend,” Ignis said. He came around the table and took a couple steps toward the door. “I will, however, relent to going to bed lest you dare up your shock tactics beyond a kiss.”

“Good. Come on, I’ll walk with you. Make sure you don’t just sneak off, grab another dozen cans of Ebony, and come back here.”

Gladio knew him too well. That thought had crossed his mind.

Instead, Ignis shook his head. He opened the door and gestured for Gladio to lead the way. The only pause was to turn off the light and lock the door. Then he allowed himself to be escorted to his private chambers.

Once there, he bid his friend a good night and went inside. It was all he could manage to kick his shoes off and undress, trading the form-accentuating tight slacks and buttoned shirt for a bare chest and pajama pants that hung low on his hips. Glasses set aside, hair combed out so it returned to its natural state, Ignis caught a blurry glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He shook his head and sighed. It meant nothing, he told himself. Just another kiss, meant only to get him out of his head. It let Gladio win. It got Ignis to leave his office and go to bed.

Yet it would be all Ignis thought about that night.

How infuriating Gladio could be…

And how much he loved it.


	2. The Early Days

There were few things that Ignis didn’t know.

There were fewer things that Ignis thought he knew but didn’t.

One such thing was a simple fact: Gladio knew exactly what he was doing each time he surprised the fussy man with a kiss, and it wasn’t only to act as a distraction.

The truth of it was equally simple: Gladio wanted to kiss Ignis.

Another truth was that there was no way Ignis should know this. Gladio hated how he had never found the courage to say something about it. He also should have left the talking about his feelings route to someone like Prompto. Gladio was a man of action, and he should have acted on his feelings a long time ago.

It had started almost a decade ago. A 13-year-old Gladio had been training for so long to eventually take his place at Prince Brat-nis’s side. He knew one day he would have to follow around and protect his Royal Pain in the Ass. He had accepted it. It was what his family line had done for so long. He couldn’t break away from tradition.

What he hadn’t expected when he was finally put into service training the future king was the future royal advisor. A nervous-looking boy not much older than Noctis accompanied him to most of the early training sessions. He sat on one of the chairs placed along the side, constantly scribbling in some notebook or another.

A year into Noct’s training, the poor prince finally landed a hit. He landed a hit on Gladio’s jaw. It was a huge moment of success for the prince. By that point, Gladio had softened toward his charge after his little sister had been saved. Though the hit was an inevitability, he had decided to never tell why Noctis had been afforded the opening.

Ignis was there again, glancing up and then back down, taking notes. It was a point of interest, that damned notebook. Oh how he wanted to know what secrets were being kept in those bound pages, written in Ignis’s small, neat script.

It would be another year before Gladio found out what Ignis had been writing in those notebooks.

At 15, Gladio was almost starting to get full of himself and his abilities. Noctis was learning at a reasonable pace, and it wasn’t so bad to have a day off now and then. So when he was finishing up his personal training routine, it was to his surprise to see Ignis standing just inside the door. The always properly dressed young man was in unusual attire: a tank top and sweatpants, running shoes on his feet.

“Hey, what’s up?” Gladio asked as he dabbed his face with a towel.

“I was hoping to make use of the facilities. I did not expect you to still be here.” Ignis’s voice was calm, each word perfectly accented. 

Huh. Gladio had never quite realized how much of an accent Ignis had. It was different, so unlike most of those around him. He should have noticed that sooner. He couldn’t let himself get distracted. So he did what he always did in situations that could make himself vulnerable.

“Ah, yeah. I’m just finishing up. Give me five minutes and it’ll be all yours,” Gladio said. He hesitated a moment before turning back to where his open duffel bag was.

Ignis, that master of perception he was even at his young age, quirked an eyebrow. The hesitation wasn’t lost on him. It was amusing. If he knew better, he might have known to question it further. Unfortunately, that wasn’t a skill he would learn for at least a few more years. So instead he watched as Gladio finished his cleaning up to leave.

“Oh, hey. Ignis?” Gladio asked, glancing over his shoulder to where Ignis now stood near a mounted punching bag. “What do you write in your notebook when you’re here watching Noct?”

“Huh?” came the soft sound of confusion. “Oh. Nothing interesting. Notes on both of your fighting styles. A strategist must have every possible advantage after all.”

As badly as Gladio wanted to be mad that someone was essentially studying him and his tactics, he couldn’t. He admired the honesty from the future adviser. He also admired that his fighting style was enough to warrant the special attention. It meant that Ignis might be watching him as much as Gladio wanted to watch him in return.

Oh, hello there intrusive thoughts.

Gladio shook his head, shaking away any further thoughts down that disaster train. He let out a huff of a laugh, a slight smile tugging on the corner of his lips. Zipping up his bag and slinging the strap over his shoulder, he walked to the door. He paused and flashed Ignis a smile.

“One of these days we should see if your notes actually help you in a match against me,” Gladio said. The smile widened to a grin.

“Is that a challenge, Gladiolus?” came the response as Ignis paused his stretches.

“Yeah,” Gladio replied, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, I think it is.”

With that, Gladio left the training facilities, already anticipating their future sparring match.

Now, seven years later, a 22-year-old Gladio found himself thinking of that initial challenge that spawned many, many matches and years of friendly competition. He found himself thinking about these moments that started their friendship. He wouldn’t change those moments for anything. He ensured that his best friend had finally made it to bed, and now he could retire to his own suite.

Moments before Gladio fell asleep, a familiar thought came to him that left him with a smile. Yeah, he wanted to kiss Ignis. Every day, if he could. And he would tell Ignis this exact thing the next chance he had.

His final thought as he drifted off was that he could only hope Ignis felt the same.


	3. A Confession... of sorts

“Come on, Gladio, what’s so hard about it?” asked Prompto as the two of them sat outside the training room. The energetic blonde had come to be a distraction while Gladio and Noctis trained. Now while they waited for Noct to get showered off and presentable, the two of them sat on a bench chatting about everything.

Unfortunately for Gladio, that everything included further teasing and prodding about why he hadn’t talked to Ignis about some unresolved feelings. It had been a week since he escorted Ignis back to his room, and a week since he had his most recent dream about his best friend. The dream itself had been delightful, filled with kisses and sweet words. It had been rudely interrupted by the persistent beeping of his alarm going off moments before dream-Ignis finally took off those way too tight pants---

“Gladio! Stay with me, dude!” Prompto said again. His voice jarred Gladio from his daydream. “Geez, you really got it bad for Specs, huh?”

“Shove it,” Gladio said, his voice unnecessarily harsh. Then, thinking better of it, he sighed. “Okay, yeah. I guess I do. But what am I gonna do about it?”

“Uh, duh! Ask him out!” Prompto rolled his eyes, exasperated. To him, this was the simplest and easiest solution. This didn’t account for Prompto’s total ineptitude in all things romance. No reason existed where this hyperactive puppy of a human being should be giving Gladio “Master of Romance” Amicitia advice.

“Sure. Let me just walk down to his office and disturb him by asking him to leave his office. To go into the city. To get food. When he could just as easily cook for himself and probably enjoy it a whole hell of a lot more than anything else in Insomnia.” Well-toned arms folded across his broad chest as he leaned back against the wall.

Prompto sighed and shook his head. “How about this? Why don’t we have Noct talk to Iggy and, like, tell him there’s a guy in the palace that wants to take him out? Then set up a reservation at some nice restaurant. And bam! Surprise! It’s you waiting for him!”

That was about as much of this bullshit Gladio could take. He unfolded his arms and stood up. “No way that would ever work, even if it was a good idea. Forget about it. Tell his highness I’ll see him tomorrow for our next training and that I’m not going easy on him anymore.”

As Gladio went off down the hall, Noctis finally emerged to join Prompto. He gave his friend a questioning look, watching his Shield sulk.

***

Ignis was where he often was when not actively working: the kitchen. The preparations for dinner took hours, even in the best of cases. He knew none of those whose company he kept would bother him until the meal was completed. It gave him time to himself, to work through his thoughts as his hands worked independently of his mind in memorized motions, and the Astrals knew he had a lot to think about.

More and more he found himself frustrated at Gladio’s choice of distraction, those quick kisses that left him wanting more. He wanted more! It was unthinkable. Unreasonable. He had no reason for having these thoughts. If he had his way, he’d prevent them altogether.

Or so he told himself.

Truth be told, he wouldn’t. These thoughts kept him company when doing menial tasks. While he never failed in completing his work, he had to admit that once or twice he was almost late for a deadline.

Fortunately, this meal had no time table beyond his own self-imposed ones.

Before he could get to work on the main course, the inspiration struck him to make a pie. Some apples would be nearing peak ripeness, and he had the rest of the ingredients on hand. Yes. That would work. Quick work to gather everything and mix it all together into one big bowl. The dough needed some time to sit before it could be rolled out and baked, so Ignis thought it would be best practice to set it aside on the far counter.

Oh, but how things fall apart even with the best intentions.

Gladio should have known better before barreling into the kitchen with his offers to help. He was trying to talk about something -- Ignis couldn’t hear it over the sound of his internal alarms blaring -- and ran right into him. What happened next was played out in slow motion.

The large bowl Ignis was carrying left his hands and flew into the air. It turned over in the air and came back down. As it hit the floor, the contents splattered up, down, and all around. Floors, walls, counters… people. Completely covered in the mix of pastry dough that would have become the crust of that night’s dessert.

Hit with a sudden panic, Ignis’s eyes widened. He was frozen in place. All Gladio could do in that moment was gently guide his friend outside. Fresh air helped in the past. Maybe it would help again.

***

Ignis and Gladio stood together on the balcony, remnants of the disaster meal still sticking to their clothes. Now that the moment of crisis had passed and anxiety had faded, Ignis could see the humor in this. It would be a long time before Gladio was allowed to help him cook and even longer before he’d let his friend live it down.

“Hey, you got something on your face,” Gladio said. He lifted a hand to Ignis’s face, wiping away a bit of flour. The touch was gentle, something about it so intimate. Even the expression in his amber eyes was soft.

Ignis leaned into the touch out of instinct before thinking better of it. He cleared his throat and stepped back, adjusting his glasses. “Ah, yes. Quite. I believe I have more things covering the rest of me. I shouldn’t linger out here. Too much to clean.”

With the setting sun on the horizon casting an orange-red haze on the sharp features of the master strategist, a thought struck Gladio again. That same, damnedable persistence that he did, in fact, want to kiss Ignis. Not because a distraction was needed, just because he felt an undeniable magnetic attraction to his closest confidante and best friend.

He had the perfect cover, too. Another cheesy line of something on his face, offering to clean it off, then capturing those soft, perfect lips in a kiss---

“So, if you don’t mind, Gladio, I should get back to it?” Ignis said, his inflection rising at the end into a question.

Gladio came back to the moment and met Ignis’s eyes. The internal pep talk came into the equation, loud and urgent. He could do this. He should do this.

He will do this…

He was doing this.

“Actually, Iggy, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Ignis tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, watching Gladio’s face. He said nothing, but his expression said it all: go on.

“You, uh, know how I like distracting you with kisses, right?” Gladio began, unable to meet the other man’s eyes any longer. He turned to stare out over the city. “It’s not just because I know it catches you off guard.”

Ignis blinked slowly as this new information worked its way through the complex sorting and analyzing system in his mind. As it settled and he understood the meaning, Ignis reached out and rested a hand on Gladio’s arm. It served its purpose in drawing attention back to him.

“If not because it surprises me, what other reason might you have?” Ignis asked, tone gentle and prodding. He suspected he knew the answer, but like many things, Ignis wouldn’t accept just suspicions or inferences as truth.

“Damn, Iggy. Are you going to make me spill it all out?” Gladio replied with the slightest Prompto-level whine. He didn’t like having to put himself out there at all, not like this. Vulnerability didn’t look good on him.

Ignis begged to differ. He just smiled, as calm as ever. “Perhaps I simply want to hear you say it. Or, since words are not as friendly to you as they are to me, I want you to show me what other intent you might have.”

Gladio needed no more invitation than that. Closing the last couple steps between them, he slipped his arms around Ignis’s slim waist, pulling him close. He hesitated a moment. This had to be a dream. He was asleep right now. There was no other explanation.

Before he could overthink it, those last inches were filled as Ignis tilted his head up and kissed him.

It was happening.

It happened.

This kiss, unlike the others, held a shared desire. A spark bounced between them. Two pairs of eyes fell shut. Bodies pressed together, a hint of further wanting.

And the world fell away around their feet.


End file.
